


Dull Scissors

by GalaxyBabe



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gore, Human Trafficking, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, also if you don't like it there's a such thing as a previous page button, deep web, if you need a tutorial let me know, it's the little arrow that points to the left next to the refresh button, this is really messed up you probs shouldn't read it, you should use it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyBabe/pseuds/GalaxyBabe
Summary: “This can’t happen. I can’t.”“You have to, now."A retelling of an old story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

There was a sort of perverse pleasure that flooded Arin’s mind when he heard Matt’s neck snap.

As Arin had expected, Matt had been the easiest to kill. He was so thin, he had very little strength to fight Arin’s hands. Although, that could also be attributed to the lack of time he had to react before his vertebrae  punctured his spinal cord. Whatever the reason, Matt Watson was now slumped on the cold tile of the Grump Space bathroom, dead, with Arin standing quietly over his body. He watched, disgusted, as fluid leaked into a puddle around Matt’s waist; this was the worst part. The body relaxed and lost any control over urine, and that was the thing that disgusted Arin the most. Not that he wasn’t prepared for it; he knew when people died they peed themselves, it just was less disgusting in theory.

Giving Matt’s oddly turned head one last parting kick, Arin pulled open the door and left quickly, hearing it close quietly behind him. It was fascinating, really, how the image of Matt’s shocked face seemed to be burned onto his retinas.

Arin met up with Dan in the main area of the Grump Space a few moments later. Dan was sitting at the table, head in his hands, his long hair pulled back from his face in a ponytail. “I can’t do this, dude,” he told Arin without even looking up. “This can’t happen. I can’t.”

“You have to, now. Matt’s already dead,” Arin replied, his nose itching at the words.

“You want me to kill your wife and my roommate, along with all of the people we’ve worked with here.”

“That was the plan, yeah.”

Dan finally looked up at this, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Fucking listen to yourself, man! You sound like you’re just talking about getting something to eat or going to Disneyland or some shit. You just fucking killed someone!”

“Yeah, I did, and I’m gonna get caught if you don’t get your shit together and do your part!”

Dan winced, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing more tears to roll down his cheeks.

“Listen, I realize it’s hard for you, but we had a deal. You kill Suzy, I kill Brian. That way it’s the least painful for both of us. You can do it.” Arin knew that they had to do everything quickly, so this was just wasting time. “Come on Dan, you can do it. I believe in you.”

Dan finally stood then, grabbing a small, sharp knife from the counter behind him. “Walk with me.”

Arin sighed. “Okay, but I have to go keep an eye out for everyone else.”

“Just… walk with me to the door.”

Arin nodded and the two of them walked quietly to the Grump Room door, Dan’s shaking hand turning the knob slowly before Arin turned and stalked off the other way.

He hadn’t seen it, but Arin heard Suzy’s scream, then Barry’s, then the cacophony of the two choking on their own blood from where he was standing. Somehow, he felt terrible and wonderful at the same time. Dan walked out to see him again a few moments later, his plain black t-shirt sticking to his body in a weird way. The look on his face was somewhere between horrified and elated, and seemed to mirror Arin’s equally.

“There,” Dan said, his voice shaking a little.

Arin simply nodded, pushing the sound of Suzy’s voice out of his head. The empty Grump Space suddenly felt full, somehow, even though Arin knew it was just he and Dan now, at least that were alive, anyway.

The two moved to the entryway, waiting for any cars to pull up. It took a few minutes, but Brian’s car pulled in first. Dan had called him to the office under the guise of writing a new song for Ninja Sex Party; he hadn’t been scheduled to be in the office today. Upon seeing the driver’s door open, Dan scuttled off somewhere, unable to watch his friend and bandmate walk straight into his demise.

Arin backed away from the door, a plan formulating in his mind. He would catch Brian off-guard, putting him in a headlock and snapping his neck, the same as Matt.

Outside, Brian locked his car. He looked down as he walked, watching the ground in front of him. Arin watched this from the middle of the entryway, taking a step back for every step Brian took forward. Upon reaching the open door to the office, he stepped through it and hid behind the wall. His heart pounded in his chest; he could barely hear anything over the thumping in his ears. He could, however, hear the front door open and close, and the footsteps following it. Arin held his breath as Brian’s footsteps drew ever nearer to him.

Brian came through the door, noticing Arin immediately. “Hey, dude, fuck. Dont scare me like that!” Brian laughed, and Arin returned the sentiment, doing his best to act innocent. “Where’s Dan at?”

Arin shrugged. “Maybe the bathroom,” he lied. He knew Dan wasn’t in there.

“Ah, alright. I’ll just hang out on the couch then.”

With this, Brian turned his back to Arin, and he knew this was his chance. Arin tackled the other from behind, Brian’s head bouncing off the wood floor. “What the hell-” Brian started to ask, turning to look at Arin. Arin’s face contorted into something resembling rage, and the look stopped Brian cold. Arin had missed his chance to go through with his plan, so he made the quickest decision he could; the Burger Time cabinet. It was closest to their current position, and the corners were sharp enough to do the job. Arin stood quickly, grabbing Brian by the collar of his shirt. Dragging him to the machine was easier than Arin had thought, despite his constant struggling and clawing at Arin’s arm.

Once within reach of it, Arin threw Brian at the machine with all the force he could muster. The back of Brian’s head crashed into it with dizzying power, and Brian looked as dazed as anyone would expect. Arin’s foot made contact with his jaw, a satisfying clack of Brian’s teeth echoing through the empty room. Blood began to drip from his mouth, and the sight spurred Arin on even more. He grabbed Brian by his hair and mashed his face into the machine, across the edge of the control panel, and against the panels framing the screen. He only stopped after Brian had stopped moving, then dropped him to the floor. Brian wasn’t breathing, and his face was far too broken and mashed to even foster the idea of life.

Arin was covered in blood. His shirt, that used to be a dark grey, had turned to a dark red and clung to his chest. His shorts had done the same, and flecks of red covered his legs and feet. He felt powerful, the shock of Brian’s grisly appearance not quite setting in yet.

“Dan. It’s done.”

A shaky breath came from behind the couch, and Dan’s mane of hair popped up. “I know.” He stood slowly, tears streaking down his face. His hand came across his face to clear his view and remove the itchy steaks left behind. His eyes traveled over Arin’s blood soaked frame. “We match,” he noted, his voice strained.

“Yeah,” Arin answered, breathless.

Both heard a car pull up outside, and Dan made to hide Brian’s body, but found himself unable to do it; Brian had worn a Ninja Sex Party shirt, and that broke Dan down once again. “Oh my god, Arin. We’re murderers.”

Arin sighed, watching Dan. “Yeah, we are.” No use trying to go back now, he thought.

The front door opens far too quickly for either of them, and they both spring into action, Dan frantically looking around the office and Arin making his way to the bag he had brought. A vial of sodium cyanide rested inside, waiting for use. He grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket as Vernon and Jack walked into the room, immediately seeing Brian’s body on the floor. Both looked frozen in fear, and it didn’t take long for both Dan and Arin to cross the room to them.

Dan grabbed Vernon by his shirt, spinning him around and throwing him to the floor and into a pool of blood. Vernon’s snapback flew off and landed on Brian’s chest. Dan pinned him down, sitting on his chest with his knees digging into his arms. Vernon screamed in pain, begging for Dan to stop, rethink, anything.

While this went on, Arin grabbed Jack and forced him into a chair that had been nearby. He nearly tripped over an extension cord, and he silently thanked whoever had put it there. The amount of cords around the office was insane, which gave them ample murder weapons. Arin ripped it from where it had been plugged in, toppling the microwave in the process. Everyone jumped in shock, but Dan and Arin quickly returned to their prior engagements. Arin tied Jack’s arms behind him, then to the chair he was sitting in.

Dan reached for nearby cord, pulling it from its perch. It hadn’t been plugged into anything, but the A/V plugs had been wrapped around the leg of the couch. He wrapped the now freed cord around Vernon’s throat twice, pulling tight on the ends. Vernon’s eyes widened, his face quickly turning red, then a disgusting shade of purple that, combined with the smell of blood, made Dan want to retch.

Arin had mixed the vial of Sodium cyanide in his pocket with water in a cup that seemed clean enough. Arin didn’t care; he wasn’t drinking it. Stirring the mixture with a fork, he walked back to Jack, watching his face. “A-Arin, please don’t, please,” Jack begged, fear clouding his eyes.

“Sorry, I have to. Open wide.”

While Dan continued to strangle Vernon, Arin forced an uncooperative Jack to open his mouth and consume to disgustingly thick concoction; Arin hadn’t stirred it enough. The duct tape sitting on the table next to the pair was snatched up and used to cover Jack’s mouth. He would die from exposure, but Arin didn’t want to be exposed to it as well.

Both Vernon and Jack stopped breathing around the same time.

Dan tied the cord in a thick knot around Vernon’s neck in case he hadn’t properly died, and Arin checked Jack’s pulse. Blood had begun to bubble at the edges of the tape, so he only stayed for a short amount of time.

Dan stood after he had finished tying the cord, staring down at Vernon and Brian’s bodies. He couldn’t stop staring, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He raised a hand to his head, pushing his hair from his face. His breath came heavy.

He laughed.

Dan began laughing, a maniacal sound that Arin hadn’t heard before. It still had the same musical quality that Dan was known for, but something was off about it. It seemed… broken.

A glare bounced off the wall of the entryway, betraying the arrival of someone else. Arin saw it, and rushed to find another weapon. Dan finally snapped out of his manic fit, and crossed the room to the kitchen, where he picked a knife from the block that used to sit near the microwave. He crossed to the doorway, holding the knife close to his chest. The door opened and closed, footsteps following. Brent walked in, turning away from Dan as if he hadn’t noticed him. Dan took this as his signal, and thrust the knife into the back of Brent’s neck. It slid through easier than expected, and Brent froze. Blood splattered Dan’s face and chest. The tip of the knife poked out of Brent’s throat, and Arin could see it dripping blood. Brent crumpled, a choked noise coming from him. He coughed and retched, his blood filling his lungs.

Arin just stood where he was, dumbfounded by Dan’s sudden vigor. Dan turned to him. He had a serious expression on his face, but his eyes were filled with what could only be described as mirthful bloodlust. “No turning back now, right, Arin?” His voice didn’t sound right, but Arin supposed that was because of the shock of the bodies they were surrounded by.

“No turning back.”

A silence fell between them, blanketing the room along with the smell of blood and urine. Arin sat on the bench of the table, and Dan followed. Both covered in someone’s drying blood, they sat in silence for a while. Arin examined his hands, picking blood from beneath his nails and between his fingers. Dan simply watched his movements. The adrenaline between the two dwindled, the silence of the office pressing down on them. Tears began to prickle at Arin’s eyes. “Suzy’s dead.”

“Yeah,” Dan replied, his voice back to normal, if a bit somber. “She loved you. She called for you.”

“I loved her too.”

Silence fell over them once again, both slinking back into their own idle thoughts. They sat together like this for what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes. Their silence was interrupted by the sound of loud music.

Adrenaline kicked in again for Arin, and by the look on Dan’s face, he felt it too. Both flew from their positions on the bench, frantically searching for a weapon or anything.

All too soon, the door opened, and by then it was too late. Arin and Dan made eye contact, Arin pointed at himself, and Dan nodded. They both made their way out of sight of the door as quickly as possible, and before they could truly react, Ryan had walked in the door and noticed Jack, still slumped over in the chair he died in. Arin jumped at him, tackling him and throwing punches wildly. Ryan screamed, kicked, and tried to fight back, but Arin grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the floor hard enough to stun him. Arin used the opportunity to stand up and begin kicking Ryan, delivering blows to his head, face, stomach, and groin. He didn’t know how long it took, but Ryan’s begging, even through the blood bubbling from his mouth, finally slowed after a kick to the underside of his jaw. His mouth lolled open, revealing a large piece of his tongue that had gotten separated from the rest. It was bleeding profusely, and it made Arin gag. He kept going nonetheless. Blow after blow rained down on Ryan’s body, breaking fingers, his nose, and a few ribs.

Arin delivered one last kick to Ryan’s jaw, completely severing the piece of his tongue. Ryan was choking and spluttering around the detached piece, unable to talk and beg for mercy. His face had turned a sickly pale blue. Arin gagged again, so he left and tried to recover his stomach.

He went back and stood at the table, leaning against it. He kept his head down, letting his hair fall into his face. Dan joined him, and they both stood there and listened while Ryan drowned in his own blood.

Once he finally stopped making noise, Arin and Dan decided to drag him from the entryway. There was still one person who hadn’t showed up yet: Ross.

He was late, as always. It was actually fortunate that he was, since if he had actually been on time, he would have arrived at the same time as Ryan. Luckily, he hadn’t decided to surprise everyone today, so Dan and Arin had time to drag Ryan from the entryway to the other side of the table and clean up the blood on the floor and partly on themselves.The whole thing took about twenty minutes, and still Ross hadn’t arrived. Arin, with clumps of blood still clinging to his beard, almost considered giving up on Ross. He was about to express this sentiment to Dan when Ross’s car pulled into the driveway, almost a half hour after he should have.

“Hey, remember that time he waterboarded himself?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth snidely.

“Yeah, what do you want to do?”

“Get a pillow, sit on him, waterboard him with his own blood.”

“Gross. Let’s do it.”

Dan laughed, his normal sing-song laughter returned for the time being. Arin grabbed a pillow from the couch, Dan popped his knuckles, and they were ready for Ross to walk in.

Just like everyone else, the door opened, followed by footsteps, then Ross appeared in the doorway. “Sorry I’m la- What the hell?”

Dan acted first, running into Ross and clotheslining him hard. Ross fell, his head bouncing off the floor. He ended up being in the same place Ryan had been, so Dan had to pin him down while Arin ran in with the pillow. Dan had been on Ross first, so Arin sat behind him, wrapping his arms around Dan and shoving the pillow over Ross’s face. Arin shifted, and a loud, satisfying snap echoed through the room. Dan copied Arin’s movements, and another snap resounded. Ross gasped and sputtered under the pillow, and Dan added his strength to the pillow. They stayed like this, occasionally shifting and snapping a rib until Ross stopped moving and blood had begun to seep through the top of the pillow.

Upon standing, Arin and Dan decided to leave everything as it was, since it made for quite a crime scene. Even the toughest stomach would have a problem staying still in the Grump Space.

“We should get some different clothes,” Dan suggested, still staring at Ross’s body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it should be known that I'm really dumb, and i accidentally added chapters in the wrong order. so uh, sorry for the confusion.  
> anyhoo, here's the missing chapter.
> 
> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

Arin’s car still had the smell of Suzy in it. Arin figured Dan had the worst of it, since he was sitting where she had last sat, spraying her perfume over her chest as they had made their way to the Grump Space. The windows were rolled down, but that just seemed to circulate the scent more, and Arin almost couldn’t stand it. It seemed like Dan was crying, but Arin couldn’t tell; Dan was a silent crier.

They had washed their clothes in the Grump Space bathroom, since neither of them thought to bring a change of clothes. They ended up staying in the Grump Space longer than they had wanted to, both pacing around in their underwear while their clothes dried. They still had blood on them, but they couldn’t wait around anymore, so they had hurried to Arin’s car and drove off.

Arin whipped into the driveway of Dan’s house and they were both out of the car and running in as quickly as they could. The house somehow felt full, so to hurry things along, Arin helped Dan throw his clothes and necessary possessions into bags and a suitcase. The suitcase didn’t close properly, but it was good enough for the time being. The bags went into the trunk of the car, and they were off again.

The house he had bought and lived in with Suzy came into view far too quickly for Arin. He hadn’t had the proper amount of time to think about the situation they had created. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he pulled into the garage, closing the door behind the car. The pair were out of the car and inside as quickly as they could be, both trying to avoid looking at the decorations Suzy had picked out and made for the house. Mochi, Mimi, and Otto decided to follow Arin around, and their little mewls for attention broke his heart even more. Once he finished packing his bags and trying to ignore everything in the house, he ripped open the cat food bag that they had stored in the closet and set it on the floor in reach of the cats. They didn’t eat right away, which was strange. They still followed he and Dan around as they tried to think of anything else they might need from the house, and when the two finally left, the cats tried to follow. Arin shuffled them back inside, setting down his armful so that he could close the door quickly. The two moved to the trunk, put Arin’s things alongside Dan’s, and made to take off again.

“We should probably change before we go anywhere,” Dan said, his voice quiet and broken. Arin agreed, and the two changed there in the garage, facing opposite ways. Arin, now wearing a tank top and black basketball shorts kicked his clothes to the corner of the room. Dan followed, now in his Rush t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans.

Arin felt better now that he had clean, lighter clothes on, and it seemed Dan felt the same. He had stopped crying for the time being, and he seemed to sink into the passenger seat a bit more than he had. The mechanical clunking of the garage door cut through the silence between them like a knife, and before Arin had completely realized it, the car was out on the road again, just driving.

“Where are we going, Arin?” Dan asked, not turning his head from the windshield.

“I don’t know,” Arin answered, his voice cracking slightly. “Mexico?”

“Too close.”

“Maine.”

“Good enough for me.”

With their destination set, the two sped off, the scene almost looking like a final scene in a romance movie.

The ride was silent, except for the occasional sniffle or click of the blinker. Neither wanted to talk, and neither felt like the radio was appropriate for the situation they were in. Both ended up thinking about their situation, their next move, what might become of them, what they had done.

It seemed odd, but Arin had gotten a sort of thrill from the murders. The feeling of bones snapping, blood splattering, even Jack’s fighting had given him this feeling of power that he hadn’t really felt before. It was insane, he knew, but it was enthralling. Like the pervish feeling he had gotten from snapping Matt’s neck. Something about holding that power over someone, holding their life his hands, had his heart and mind racing in tandem.

Dan shifted in the seat next to him, and he remembered Dan. He had been hesitant to even consider what they would end up doing. Their secret could never get out, and Suzy had stumbled across some evidence that they had accidentally left unhidden. They couldn’t very well dispose of Suzy, it would be too suspicious. All they could do was frame it as some sort of untargeted attack, make it seem like they had snapped on everyone in the office.

Their secret could never get out, ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”  
> -George Orwell, 1984

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

Dan had been in denial of the whole mess since the beginning. He couldn’t handle the thought of something like that existing, let alone being part of it. The whole thing scared him, but as soon as he had caved a little, Arin said what seemed to become his catchphrase; “No turning back.” Even in the craziest situations, “no turning back” would fall from his lips while his eyes bore into Dan’s soul.

Though, they had never killed before.

Human trafficking was a crazy thing to do, and Dan regretted getting involved as soon as he got into it. Dan always told himself that everything around him was fake, he was dreaming, and he would wake up soon. All of the shady drop offs, the smell of chloroform mixed with whatever perfume or cologne the person was wearing, the nights spent in someone’s shady van painted blue to eliminate suspicion. All of it was fake, Dan told himself, these weren’t people, these were figments of his imagination. They were just faces he had seen walking by in his waking life, and his brain gave them bodies and scents and weight to make it feel real. In the end, he would wake up and everything would be fine.

After a while, he would convince himself it was a dream. Then the thought would dissipate when he saw their faces, smiling and enjoying company, on the news. Eventually he just stopped watching the news altogether, opting instead for spending time on Instagram, interacting with fans and liking every picture he came across. The dream theory would stay in place for much, much longer.

He had still had himself convinced it was a dream until Arin had texted him with the news that Suzy had found a burner phone. It only contained the alias of the buyer and his own burner phone number, but even that was risky. The guy was known for taking to the deep web, supposedly running red room feeds with people that he picked up or bought. He always had a suspiciously large amount of money, and he picked very specific descriptions when he asked for people, so the red room theory was probably somewhere near correct. The most recent sale had been a cute girl, looking to be around twenty-four, long brown hair, brown eyes, high cheekbones. She fit the description he had wanted; mid-twenties, brown hair, brown eyes, angular face, large breasts. There was always something vaguely sexual about the people he asked for, even the males. He once asked for a man that looked like he worked out quite a bit, so they had picked up a guy coming from a gym late one night. The moment the guy saw him, he started to sweat, his eyes filled with this sort of creepy hunger that Dan couldn’t shake. That was the first and only time Dan had ever looked the man in the eye.

Arin never told Dan the names of their clients, or what the purpose of their services were. All Dan knew was that they picked up certain people off the street, took them to other people, and got exorbitant amounts of money for it. They weren’t part of a ring, per se, but instead were sort of loners, sort of like they were doing odd jobs, but more illegal.

Arin never seemed to regret what he was doing. If he did, he hid it from Dan well. There always seemed to be this sort of feral way he walked when he would attack someone, or when he would drag them to the van. He even nicknamed the van, calling it the Mystery Machine. It eerily resembled the cartoon vehicle; it was the same shade of blue, the same type of van, everything. The Mystery Machine smelled like alcohol and blood, a nauseating combination that seemed stronger beneath the bench seat, most specifically where the driver sat. This was the reason Dan always sat in the back, ensuring their victim was unhurt and remained unconscious throughout the trip to the meeting place, usually some shady alley or the client’s house.

The two had their faces covered and hair hidden under beanies or in ponytails at all times, in case anyone they knew happened to stumble across their crimes. This also protected their anonymity when dealing with clients. They never used names when talking to each other in front of clients; they usually didn’t need to, but on the few occasions they did, Dan was to signal Arin with two snaps of his fingers, while Arin signaled Dan with a tongue click. Dan handled money while Arin handled bodies. Dan would meet the client, voice deep and husky to hide his identity, lead them to the back of the truck to show the victim, then collect the payment and climb into the front seat while Arin finished the exchange. He always plugged his nose during this, shoving the money into the glove compartment, while he waited.

Trafficking was a complicated business, and Dan hated it. He couldn’t deny that the pay was fantastic, but he still hated doing it. This was why he convinced himself it was fake; the victims’ faces, gentle and stress-free, disturbed him deeply. But somehow, he couldn’t stop staring at them. Each face had its own intricate details; acne, dimples, piercings, scars, bruises, even eyelashes. Many of the girls they would find had false eyelashes on, and he often found himself wondering what they looked like without them, or just touching them. The gentle sensation against his fingertip seemed to calm him, to mentally prepare him for the step that came next. Real eyelashes were different, but just as nice. They were softer, more flexible, and Dan developed this strange fascination with eyelashes throughout working with Arin like this. He began noticing eyelashes, how they framed eyes and brushed across cheekbones with blinks.

Arin’s were unexpectedly long, and Dan had only noticed this after forming this obsession. Dan started noticing a lot about Arin after working with him in trafficking. His left eyelid fell a little lower than his right, while his right eyebrow always had a tiny little raise, like he was constantly looking down on anyone he spoke to. The scar on his upper lip still showed through his beard if you looked hard enough, slightly changing the direction of hair growth. His front four teeth created a straight line as opposed to a curve, which actually fit him quite well. He was a man to go against the “normal” grain, so why would his teeth be any different?

And even now, through tears, Dan noticed all of these things.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thinking: the talking of the soul with itself." -Plato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is really short, i kinda threw it together in a short amount of time in order for the narrative to make a little more sense.
> 
> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

Arin didn’t want Dan thinking about what they had done. He didn’t want himself thinking about it, for that matter. That didn’t stop his mind from wandering through the office, through the different rooms, past the walls of Amiibos and plushies, over and under tables, to the Grump Room and back. He’d never see that place again. He missed it already, and they hadn’t even left the state yet. 

All of the deeds they had done led up to this point. They didn’t have to, if Arin hadn’t been so careless. If he hadn’t left the phone out, if he hadn’t let Suzy find it, everyone would be alive and happy and continuing their business as if everything was normal. 

Even so, it would have gotten out eventually. Arin and Dan may have gotten caught, or Suzy would have found something even more incriminating, who knows. There was nothing the two could do now; the deed is done. Any burner phones they had had been disposed of before the murders. The only trace of them left now was the videos that remained on the Internet. There would be no more income, no more kidnapping and trafficking. Arin was secretly a bit glad about the latter, since he wouldn’t have to see that awful face Dan made when they did it. Of course Arin regretted what they had done, knowing that red rooms always ended in murder and they had contributed to the deaths of quite a few people, but that was what struck him the most. He was sure if the fans had seen him in that position, they would have told him to cheer up, that everything would be okay and he should keep his head up.

The Lovelies really were wonderful, and Arin vaguely wished he could thank them one last time and ask for their forgiveness. 

But, he supposed that they would hate both he and Dan now. Murder wasn’t exactly the best tool for gaining sympathy. Especially the murder of those who had fans of their own; meaning everyone involved with Game Grumps. They had all built their own empires, and now each and every one had fallen, including Dan and Arin’s. 

Really, even if given the chance, what would Arin even say to the Lovelies, and those fans that stayed loyal from Newgrounds? How could he apologise, explain what he had done and why, without losing the fanbase as a whole? Of course, there were always the oddballs that liked murderers for whatever reason, maybe they would help garner sympathy for the two of them, though they really haven’t gotten too far already, what would change now? Besides, Arin didn’t want to be lumped in with awful people like that anyway. They had a reason behind the murders, it wasn’t just because they were on a bloodhunt.

Arin didn’t know why or how he was justifying this. It was an awful thing to do. He wished he could go back and change it, just bring them all back to life and let them live their lives out to the fullest.

But, there was no turning back now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most songs that aren't jump-rope songs, or lullabies, are cautionary tales or goodbye songs and road songs.  
> -Tom Waits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

Ten and a half hours after the murders, Dan and Arin had made their way to a dingy motel in Willcox, Arizona.

The only room that had been open was a room with a single king bed, so Arin had volunteered to take the couch on the way up. There was only one problem with this; when they opened the door to their room, there was no couch. Just the bed, a table with one sickly green chair by the window, a desk that held a tiny old microwave with a mesh back chair tucked beneath it, a giant mirror reflecting the headboard of the bed, and a doorway to a bathroom that didn’t look exactly clean.

“Great,” Arin had sighed, hustling Dan into the room before closing and locking the door. Dan had remained standing next to the little table and chair in front of the burgundy curtained window while Arin checked the bed for anything unsavory. He had found it to standard, at least, and as soon as he voiced this to Dan, both were on top of it, staring at the ceiling and thinking things over.

That had been two hours ago, and Dan was still there, trying to find little patterns in the barely visible ceiling. Arin had gotten up about an hour prior, flipped off the lamp on the bedside table, and was now restlessly flipping through the seven channels that the grainy TV could pick up. Around the twentieth time flipping past the low-budget cooking show that was playing on PBS, Dan couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence between them had been heavy all day. They had to speak to each other in depth, beyond a few words about sleeping arrangements and bed bugs.

“Arin?” Dan asked, ready to be ignored or pushed away.

“Yeah, Dan?” Arin responded. His hair clung to his shoulder as he turned his head, and suddenly his profile was in sharp relief against the glow of the TV.

“What the hell are we doing?”

Arin fell silent for a while, letting the sound of the infomercial flashing across the screen fill the room. After a few moments, he timidly answered, “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

The silence fell between them again, heavier than ever. Dan regretted even talking. Arin stopped flipping through the channels, though, letting the deep voice tell them both about how great some off-brand vacuum cleaned carpets. It became a sort of white noise, and the two sat in their respective places, listening to the overly-excited lines of the infomercial actors and the occasional  _ tik _ from the back of the TV.

The room buzzed silently with the unspoken words between them for another hour, only stopping when Arin suddenly stood. Dan had somehow started to drift off in the meantime, and the sudden motion startled him out of his fog. He looked up to see Arin standing above him, face entirely shrouded in shadow and back to the flickering TV. “You did some stuff back there.”

Had he not been so confused, Dan would have laughed. “Yeah, so did you.”

“No, I mean, weird stuff. Stuff that I never thought you would do.”

“I mean, I never thought I would kill anyone either but…”

“That’s not what I mean. You like… laughed.”

The sentence hit Dan like a train. He laughed. Had he?

“Wh-what do you mean, Arin?”

“You were just, like, staring at the bodies, and then, you just… laughed. Like a crazy person.”

“I… I did? I don’t remember.”

“Yeah. It scared me a little… this is weird, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Arin turned away from Dan, facing the bathroom now.

Dan sat up quickly, pulling his left leg up onto the bed so he could more easily face Arin. “You can tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. Arin wasn’t that good at hiding what he thought.

“Arin. Tell me.”

“It’s just… it was scary, I didn’t think you would do something like that. And you seemed so… I dunno, it’s nothing, it was probably my imagination.”

“Arin, come on. I can tell something’s wrong. What’s bothering you?”

“I dunno, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I probably did the same things too.”

Dan just stared blankly at Arin’s back, trying to think back to the office, but also trying to block it out at the same time. Neither worked very well, as he still saw the petrified looks on Barry and Suzy’s faces, the blood from Brian, and Vernon’s rapidly bluing skin and bulging eyes. But beyond that… He couldn’t remember much. The next thing he remembered was telling Arin that Suzy had called for him in her last moments, and then he remembered suggesting what they did to Ross and getting themselves cleaned up, then he remembered Ross pulling into the driveway, then all of a sudden they were in Arin’s car, Suzy’s scent enveloping him and Arin driving a little too fast to get to Dan’s house.

Everything was crystal clear after that. Every pebble on the road that stretched ahead of them, every face they passed on the interstate, every building and car that they passed in the last fourteen hours stuck out in his memory.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. -Abraham Lincoln

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](https://swampwitchactivist.tumblr.com/)

Arin wasn’t sure why Dan’s laugh bothered him so much. 

Maybe it was because it was a sound Arin had never heard before, maybe it was just something his mind had decided to hyperfixate on, maybe it was something that he had done and was blaming it on Dan. Arin honestly had no idea. Returning to flipping through the sparse channels, he let his mind wander wherever it wanted.

Dan didn’t press him any further, and Arin felt at least a little grateful for that. After what felt like an hour, though, Arin noticed that Dan hadn’t even moved from the exact position he had been in when the conversation ended. Arin stopped flicking through channels, letting it rest on some cheesy sitcom from the 80s and turning to look at Dan. 

He was staring at Arin, his eyes piercing through to Arin’s very core. He looked like he was going to be sick. Trick of the low light or not, Dan’s face was pale, sunken in and almost skeletal. His eyes shone from his head like marbles, reflecting the television light far too brightly. Even his hair seemed to flatten down, making him seem almost dead. A pit formed in Arin’s stomach, threatening to drag the motel room down with it.

“Dan, are… Are you okay?” Arin asked, voice shaking lightly.

Dan didn’t answer. He just kept staring, not blinking at all.

Was this a nightmare? Maybe Arin had fallen asleep and was dreaming. He would wake up and everything would be fine, he’d wake up next to Suzy and have the cats meowing at him for food, and he’d feed them and head to the Grump Space, where everyone was happily working on their own projects and doing their very best. 

This felt too real. This wasn’t a dream, and Arin knew it. There was nothing he could do to convince himself otherwise. 

“Dan… Dan, come on.” He started to reach out to Dan, to put his hand on his shoulder, but Dan jolted out of his haze. 

“W-what, what happened?” he asked, looking as if he had just been roused from a deep sleep. 

Before Arin could respond, a red banner flashed across the TV screen, illuminating Dan’s face and drawing Arin’s attention.

“Breaking news,” the newscaster said, his deep voice filling the room. “California authorities have asked residents of Tucson and surrounding areas to be on the lookout for two men in a white Chevrolet Sonic, California license plate 6XTU350. Arin Hanson and Leigh Daniel Avidan are wanted for suspicion of killing nine of their coworkers, including Hanson’s wife, Suzanne Berhow. If you sp-” 

Arin turned the television off, and both he and Dan sprung into action. Neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep, but both were wide awake, grabbing the bags they had brought in and rushing out to the car without thinking. They left their keys in the lock outside the door, the set that Dan had been holding attached to Arin’s, whose were the ones in the lock.

Once they had gotten into the car, the two sped away from the parking lot, breathing heavy and fast. Arin’s heart was pounding in his ears so loudly that he barely heard Dan say, “We need to ditch the car, Arin, we have to find something else.”

After about an hour of driving south, Dan spotted the sign for a mom-and-pop hardware store coming up along the side of the road. “Maybe we can get something to help,” he suggested, prompting Arin to veer off of the road and into the parking lot, flicking the headlights off. Both jumped out as quickly as they could, leaving the car running and making their way up to the door. They both kept their heads down, hiding their faces from any cameras with their hair. 

Luckily enough, the front windows of the store were thin enough to be broken with a forceful blow from Arin’s elbow. The only problem now was the high pitched squealing coming from the burglar alarm inside. “We have to hurry!” Arin yelled over the grating noise. “I need a power drill, a battery for it, and a charger!”

Dan nodded, and the two were in the store. Dan sprinted off to Arin’s left, so Arin went right, looking through shelves for anything useful. He managed to find a battery charger for a power drill, but he couldn’t find a battery or a drill. He heard Dan screaming over the alarm that he had found a drill, and that it came with a battery, so he yelled back that they needed to go.The two almost collided when they had gotten to the broken window, Dan grabbing at Arin’s shirt with his free hand and Arin, in turn, dragging Dan out the window. Both sprinted to the car, Arin fumbling with the console shifter, getting the car into reverse just as Dan got the car door closed. Arin backed out into the road, making sure his headlights were off and slamming the car into drive. The car sped off, whipping both Dan and Arin back in their seats. Arin saw Dan turn around in his seat, though he didn’t ask why. 

“Oh, fuck, Arin go faster, that’s the cops,” he breathed, almost too quietly to hear over the engine. 

“I-I can’t, it’s-it-it’s already at top speed,” Arin stuttered, his knuckles white with the force of his grip on the steering wheel. His foot was down on the accelerator so hard that it was starting to hurt his thigh, but he kept it there for another few minutes, until Dan moved back to face the front of the car.

They were passing through what seemed to be a tiny, nearly empty town, which Arin noticed was called McNeal, at least according to the post office sign. Dan was looking out his window, and he leaned toward it as they came upon a grocery store with a beat-up truck sitting in what could be considered the parking lot. Arin whipped into the “parking lot,” pulling around the side of the building so he and Dan could talk while remaining inconspicuous. 

“Dan, we gotta hotwire that truck,” Arin started, his blood still pounding in his ears. 

Dan looked shocked. “I don’t know how to hotwire a car! What the hell?”

“Dude chill out. That’s why we got a drill. I had to do it to one of my old cars once.”

The other sighed, handing the unopened box in his lap to Arin. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Yeah, me either.”


End file.
